I Disappear
by milkshake42
Summary: Sam and Dean go to Wisconsin to investigate a girl's mysterious disappearance.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first proper go at a FanFic, so I am interested to see how it turns out. Please don't kill me for the chapters being short, I promise they'll get longer as time goes on!

This would take place season 3, between 'Sin City' and 'Bedtime Stories'. I own nothing apart from Becca: all credit goes to the awesome Eric Kripke. Enjoy! 

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><p><em>Please insert $1 for another half an hour. Have a nice day!<em> The flashing message took up the entire computer screen, blocking the several internet pages that were open.

"Oh, come on! I'm nearly finished!" Rebecca Stonewell slammed down her pen and grabbed her purse. It was empty. She groaned as she packed her homework into her bag. It was going to take two shifts at work to get that much money again.

"Need some change, honey?" A round woman sitting at the information desk smiled kindly at her.

Becca shook her head. "No thanks. I'd better be going home anyway." She looked down at her watch. It was about ten-forty. She had promised her dad she would be home no later than eleven PM. It was nearly a thirty minute walk back to her house. She picked up her books rushed out of the 24/7 internet café.

The night air hit her hard. Becca pulled her jacket closer to her body, and tried to ignore the creepy shadows that the street lamps were creating. She tried to distract herself by thinking about the laptop she was saving up for.

The happy thought didn't help for very long though. She had always hated the dark.

Becca's mind wandered back to the days when she was younger, maybe only four or five years old. She used to get her mom to check that there was nothing in her closet or under her bed. She never had the guts to do it by herself. Luckily, there never was anything there. But her mom wasn't here to check for mosters now.

Suddenly, the street lamps flickered off, the one furthest away from a Becca extinguishing first, until the whole street was immersed in an eerie darkness. _Crap! _Becca though as she came to a stop. No way she was taking another step when she was completely blinded.

She decided to phone her dad for a ride home, when she heard a faint rushing of wind. It troubled her, because the night was completely still.

'Hello?' she called, seeing if it was someone trying to play a joke on her. When no response came, she turned back to her phone. No signal. _Honestly, _Becca thought as she started walking again with a quicker pace, _can my luck run any drier?_

Although the wind noise had bothered her, she tried to brush it off. She continued to the end of the street, and turned left onto the next. _Only five more blocks. You can do it Becca!_ She was so close to home!

Becca kept walking when she felt something knock into her. Taken by surprise, she fell backwards, reaching her hands out to break her fall. A painful sensation travelled from them and up to her arms, and when she looked down at them, she found them in a scratched and bloody mess.

'Hello?' she tried once again. 'Who are y-'

Becca couldn't speak another word. She was pushed down onto her back by the invisible force, and the same rushing noise from before filled her ears. She tried to scream, but something was being forced down her throat. All she could see was a huge black cloud. She struggled against it, trying to get up, trying to escape.

All of a sudden, she stopped moving, and the night was still once more.

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><p>Please let me know if I should continue...don't worry the Winchesters will be the stars of the next chapter!<p>

Reviews are appreciated as well by the way!


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the next part. Enjoy!**

**Eric Kripke owns everything**

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><p>Dean didn't mean to fall asleep, but there was no way to stop it. TV wasn't worth keeping an eye open for (<em>Dr Sexy, M.D<em> wasn't on) and Sam wouldn't let him go out for a few beers. His little brother had insisted that he stick around the motel, just in case something came up.

They were currently in Idaho, having just finished a hunt a couple of hours ago. The spirit of a soldier who had been dishonourably discharged had decided to create havoc for the families of anyone who was currently serving in the army. It had taken a while to get rid of, and the exhausted brothers were glad that it was over.

Once they had gotten back to their motel, Dean crashed on one of the beds, and Sam passed time by going through police reports on his laptop. Nothing that seemed to be their sort of job had caught his eye yet.

He looked over at Dean, who was sprawled out on his bed. Sam felt like copying his brother's example, when Dean let out a snort. Sam laughed as the older hunter shook himself awake. "Morning sunshine!"

'What time's it?' Dean asked. Only it came out in a rush as "Whatmsit?"

"Ten-thirty," Sam replied, turning back to his computer. "PM."

Dean rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Ten-thirty? When did I fall asleep?"

"Hmm, I'm not too sure. Maybe around seven-thirty, eightish?"

Dean couldn't even remember the last time he had fallen asleep that early. Around this time, he was usually downing a few cold ones at a local bar and getting to know the town's ladies. "You found anything?" he asked after he had woken up a bit more, standing to pour Sam and himself some coffee.

His younger brother sighed and shut down the current report he was looking at. "Nah, it looks like America's peaceful...for once."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, and I'm a fairy princess. Come on, we just opened the Gate a few weeks ago," He pulled a chair up next to Sam and gave him his drink. "There's gotta be a gig for us somewhere."

Sam pulled up the information about the one thing that might be their kind of job. "Well, there was this one case in Mazomanie, Wisconsin." Dean choked on his coffee and almost fell out of his chair when Sam said the name of the small town. "What?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, keep going." Dean beckoned for him to go on.

"The police report says that a couple of weeks ago, sixteen year-old Rebecca Stonewell was going home one night, but never made it. She was last reported to have been seen at an internet café, twenty minutes before her curfew. Since then, there have been two pretty gruesome murders in the town. Mazomanie's pretty small, so it is a big deal for them." Sam stopped reading and looked at Dean. "So what do you think?"

"I think that we should check it out," Dean said. He reached over for his coat and car keys.

"Wait, are you serious about this? She probably ran off with her boyfriend or something. And those murders could have been done by anyone." Sam was surprised at how eager Dean was.

"Come on, Sammy. We've investigated things for less. Pack your stuff so we can hit the road." Dean hurried outside to wait in the car, leaving behind his puzzled brother to get all their gear.

"Jerk." Sam muttered as the motel door closed.

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><p><strong>Review please (it helps me think more!)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Yeah, I know it's slightly cheesy but I have to dedicate this chapter to **MsMKT86** for giving me my first ever review! It made my day, so thank you!

This would take place season 3, between 'Sin City' and 'Bedtime Stories'. I own nothing apart from Becca: all credit goes to the awesome Eric Kripke.

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><p>They arrived in Mazomanie two days later. Sam had passed out as soon as they got over the Idaho state-line, his tiredness getting the best of him. He remained that way that way when it wasn't his turn to drive. Dean's two hour power nap seemed to give him lots of energy. They only had to stop for coffee thirteen or fourteen times, a new record for such a distance.<p>

When they entered the small town, they figured that it was just that: a small town. It was a wet day, and not that many people were out. A few shops lined the road the Impala was driving down, bu they weren't that big. Dean, hoping the town at least had a bar, nudged his brother awake. "Where to first, Sleeping Beauty?"

Because Sam had just woken up, he wasn't quite sure what Dean was talking about. "Wait, we're here?"

Dean nodded and he watched Sam take in the place they would be spending the next few days. "Wow." The younger hunters surprise was shown in his voice. "It's-"

"Crappy? Boring? Pathetic?"

"No, I was actually going to say nice." He smiled at the amazed look on Dean's face. "What? It's the kind of place I saw myself moving to with Jess, you know, to get out of the craziness of the city and-what?"

Dean was shaking his head. "Could you be anymore gay right now?" He laughed as he pulled up to a dingy looking motel. He couldn't stand to live in a town where you saw the same people every single day. There would be no privacy because everyone knows everyone. But then again, Mazomanie did have one plus to it...

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><p>"Good morning," Charity, a pretty, young blonde, had been sitting at the reception desk of the local Police Department when she heard two men walk towards her. She blushed considerably when she looked up and saw that these weren't the everyday officers she was used to. They were young and attractive.<p>

"Hi," said the shorter of the two, giving her a breath-taking smile. Charity tried to hold in a giggle. This guy was hot, and obviously knew how to charm a woman for his advantage.

"How may I help you Mr.-"

"Diamond. Agent Steven Diamond. This is my partner, Agent Todd Graham." They flashed her their badges.

_Ooh, _Charity thought, _FBI. I wonder what they're here for. Wait, who cares? As long as I get Diamond out for a few drinks tonight, they can do whatever they want. As long as it has nothing to do with that red headed secretary. What a slut._ She leaned forward, and gave them a grin.

Graham stepped in at this point, seeing the flirting going on between Charity's and his partner's eyes. "If you don't mind, we'd like to talk to the Officer Harris."

Charity looked at Graham, slightly annoyed that her and Diamond had been interrupted. "He's not here, sorry. Officer Harris is on holiday in France for the next two weeks."

"I hear it's lovely this time of year." Diamond added with a flirtatious grin.

Charity laughed. "Would you like anything else?"

"Well, two things actually." Diamond replied, leaning forward onto her desk. "One, could we have the reports on those two murders that happened in the past three weeks, and two, could I have your address so I can pick you up around eight?"

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><p>Yeah, I know...random. But I pinkie promise it's going somewhere! :) Reviews would help me put it into words though...<p>

NB: If anyone has ideas of what to call the chapters, let me know!


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for not posting this chapter sooner. I have been REALLY busy over the weekend. But seeing as it's the start of a new week, I'll try get most of the story up. Enjoy!

This would take place in season 3 between 'Sin City' and 'Bedtime Stories'. Everything belongs to Eric Kripke.

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><p>The brothers got back to the motel and began to look over the reports. "Well, at least we know it is our kind of job...a demon to be exact." Dean said soon after they had sat down.<p>

"Sulfur?" Sam guessed.

"Yip, a ton of it. The Police are confused by it of course. If only they'd stop mucking around with our jobs."

"Dean, they don't know any better."

"Yeah, well maybe it's time somebody taught them a lesson..." He grinned evily at Sam. "Let's just keep looking."

At first, Katie Lock and Harry Webb, the two teens who had been killed, didn't seem to have anything in common. They were just young, random victims. "How'd we know who's next?" Dean asked, getting slightly annoyed. He really could not be bothered with this sort of job right now.

"I have no idea," sighed Sam. He was looking through the reports for the umpteenth time. "Wait a minute; they were both around the same age, right?" He opened up his computer without waiting for a reply, and began to type furiously

"What're you looking up?" Dean looked over at the screen. Sam had opened up a high school website, and he was now dialing a number into his mobile. "Sammy, what-"

His little brother held up his hand to silence him. "Hi, this is Agent James Graham from the FBI. I was wondering if I could have all the class details and information you have about Katie Lock and Harry Webb on your system."

Dean heard some faint babbling at the other end and listened to Sam give a made-up email and thank the secretary. He glared at his little brother, an irritated look on his face.

"What?"

"Just talk to me first before you go calling up random people, ok? What was that about anyway?"

"It's just a hunch. They're both high school age, so maybe they could be related to each other through that." It turned out that Sam's hunch was right: the two sixteen year-old victims were in mostly the same classes. After looking at a yearbook picture, they were obviously friends.

"That doesn't at all seem freaky to you?" Sam asked Dean after a while. His big brother had shown no obvious reaction to the information he had just pieced together.

"A little," came the reply. "Ok, maybe more than a little. But why'd a demon go after them?"

"I don't know." Sam thought hard. Rebecca was quite young, which was one of the reasons he had wanted to investigate her case. "Wait, wasn't Rebecca about their age? Sixteen?" He turned to her profile, and, after a little researching, found that she had similar classes as the others. "Do you think something's murdering her friends?"

Dean sighed. "Or making her murder them. Well, it sure is sick enough."

Sam looked confused.

"I mean, think about it. Maybe Becca isn't just missing. The demon's probably possessing her. Then, the last thing her friends would remember is one of their friends coming at them with a knife. Plus, after the demon leaves Becca, she could die. If not, her life will be ruined."

Sam mulled the gloomy summary over in his mind. He looked down at the photos of the crime scenes. Each victim had had their stomachs and faces slashed several times. The murders had happened at the high school as well, which made everything worse. "But why her?"

"Dunno. She's young, got a whole life ahead of her. If I was a demon who just wanted to create chaos, I'd possess someone like that..." Dean thought about the fact that demons pretty much ruled the place he was headed for. But when it came to saving Sammy, Dean didn't care that selling his soul to a crossroad demon got him a one-way ticket to hell.

"Becca?" Sam asked, abruptly changing the subject. He didn't want to make his brother embarrassed.

Dean went along with it, trying to cover up how uncomfortable the near chick-flick moment had made him. "It's less of a mouthful. Speaking of which, I should be getting ready for my date."

While Sam sat there wondering how Dean had been reminded of his date from the word mouthful, his brother went to have a shower and came out half an hour later, looking half-decent in a blue shirt and jeans.

"Where you going with…uh, what's her name?"

"Charlie, Chloe, Chelsea…something like that."

Sam smirked. "You should probably figure that out. How come you're going through such an effort to impress her anyway?" Dean usually only had to walk through a bar door before women began to stare at him.

"Well, I'm hoping the word will get out about what a gentlemen I am. It is a small town, after all." He got his coat and opened the door. "Oh, and Sammy, don't wait up, ok?"

Sam smiled at him. "I figured I might go talk to the girl's family."

A look of anxiety came across Dean's face, showing that beneath the bravado, he was still a caring older brother. "OK, just..." he sighed, "be careful. Keep your phone on-"

"Make sure you have a weapon etc., etc. I know the drill Dean."

"I'll leave you the Impala. It'd be a bit weird to have a FBI agent turn up on your doorstep after he walked there."

Sam smiled. "Thanks. I guess I'll see you in the morning."

With that, Dean dropped the keys onto the table and practically ran out the door.

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><p>Reviews are appreciated!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Confession time: I have written most of the chapters in advance. I know I should update more reguarly, so I will. I wanted to make sure I had a story with an ending before uploading my first chapter. So here you go: another chapter uploaded about 5 minutes after I published chapter 4. I promise I'll try harder!

This would take place season 3 between 'Sin City' and 'Bedtime Stories'. Eric Kripke owns everything!

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><p>Joseph Stonewell never thought he would have the FBI turn up on his doorstep. But since his Becca had been missing…well, he didn't know what to expect.<p>

He had been looking at a recent picture of her that had been taken recently at her sixteenth birthday party. She looked so happy and beautiful, just like her mother. Joseph felt the tears creep into his eyes, when he heard his doorbell ring.

He pushed himself up from his armchair, and limped towards the door. He wasn't as young as he used to be. Him and his late-wife, Mary-Anne, had met when they were slightly older, and they were both shocked to find out she was pregnant shortly after they had gotten married. But Rebecca was their little miracle. Joseph pulled himself back to the present, and opened the door to find himself looking at a young man in a suit.

"Good evening," he said, his tall frame making it awkward to stand on such a small porch. "Sorry to disturb you, but I'm Agent James Graham, from the FBI." He flashed his badge. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions about your daughter."

Joseph nodded and stood aside to let him inside of his old house. "Don't you boys usually work in pairs? Or have I just seen too many movies?"

The agent laughed. "Yeah, we do. But my partner has…" Graham looked as though he was searching for the right word, "something else he's working on."

Joseph found it strange that Graham was here because he had already talked to the police, but he figured that the FBI's gotta do what the FBI's gotta do. "You want a cup of joe?" he asked, shutting the door after him.

"That would be great, thanks." was the reply. The agent settled himself onto the sofa, his height making him look very out of place once again. Joseph was rather short, and he figured that he must look like a dwarf next to this guy.

He watched the agent out of the corner of his eye as he made the coffee. Although he looked quite young, he looked mature as well. He calmly sat back and waited for Joseph to finish in the kitchen, looking around. He had brown hair that he was letting grow freely, and a kind countenance. But that wouldn't make what was coming next any easier.

Joseph brought over the coffee, settling himself back into his old chair. A nod of thanks was given. "So, what does the FBI want to know?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Could you tell us what your daughter was doing the night she disappeared?" Graham asked.

"Well, she had some homework to finish. So she went to an internet café, the one that's just a few blocks from here. Money's not been easy to come by, so we can't really afford all the new fancy technology." Joseph explained, making sure the FBI wouldn't arrest him for kicking his daughter out of the house to do homework. "Anyway, I told her to be home no later than eleven o'clock, and to keep her phone on all the time. That was the last time I saw Becca." He choked back a sob as the last few words came out of his mouth.

Graham looked slightly sad at the old man's pain, but he had to keep the questions going. "How come you didn't drive her there?"

"She usually goes there to do her work, and she always insists on walking. I think she likes some time to herself, you know, to think. But I asked her to call me if she wanted me to pick her up when she was done."

Graham digested this information and went on. "Is there any place that she might go, any place that could be important to her?"

Joseph was surprised he hadn't thought of looking in this place before. "There's this old house, near the edge of the woods. Becca and a few of her friends from around here used to play in it. Us parents banned them when we found out, but they'd still sneak out to go to it. It was kinda safe ten years ago, but I don't know what state it'd be in now. Probably just about falling over…" He trailed off, deciding that as soon as the agent left, he would go look for her there.

But it was as though the agent read his mind. "Mr. Stonewell, please promise me that you won't go looking for Becca there. If it's as unsafe as you said it is, I wouldn't want you to get injured."

A slightly crazy look came over Joseph's face. "But she's my daughter! I need to look for her-"

"I swear I'll be the one leading that search. I'll contact you immediately if there's any sign that someone could have been there in the past few weeks. But if I find you there, I'll have to…arrest you. OK?" Graham gave Joseph a caring but hard look, and the older man nodded and relaxed a little.

The agent sighed, glad that he had agreed, and glanced down at Joseph's hand, noticing a wedding ring. "Is your wife around? I'd like to ask her a few questions as well, if that's ok."

Joseph looked at the agent, surprised he was asking him this question. He was sure Graham would have looked up Becca's family before he'd arrived. "Um, you can't sorry. Mary-Anne passed last year. Drug over-dose."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." An awkward silence followed, no man too sure of what to say next.

"I'll get you my phone number if you just wait a minute, so you can call me if you find her." Joseph stood up and shuffled over to the desk that was in the corner of the room. He grabbed a piece of paper and, after a brief search, a working pen. He scribbled down his number and gave it to the agent.

"Thanks. Well, I'd better be going. Thanks for your time, Mr. Stonewell. I promise I'll call." They stood and Joseph shook the agent's hand, and then led him to the door. Graham opened it, and the heat from Joseph's small fireplace escaped into the night air.

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><p>There you have it! It was kind of a filler, but some information from it is important, so keep it in mind!<p> 


	6. An Author's Lousy Apology

OK, you may notice that several of the chapters have disappeared. Yeah, I know once they've been posted they should stay that way, but I've made a HUGE change which will affect quite a large part in chapters 6-8 (the ones I deleted).

So, just letting you know. I'm sorry for the 'inconvenience' (if I may call it that) and sorry for not posting over the weekend. It has been HECTIC! I'm going away on Saturday for about 3 weeks, and I plan to have the COMPLETED story up by then. If not, I'll have to see if I can use my gran's computer.

But I promise I'll make the chapters I'm editing as great as I can. Thank you** Mystique Aqua** so much for your feedback and help. It has made TONS of difference and the character you said you like will be making a special appearance!

Thank you so much for your patience with this amateur author, and I'm so sorry again. Thanks for your support as well!

milkshake42


	7. Chapter 6

**Well, here it is, a few days after my freak out! Sorry for that, by the way. The chapters don't have many major changes (apart from one), and since I've finished editing them all to fit with the story line, they'll all be uploaded today. Thank you for understandgin, guys 8D!**

**Eric Kripke owns all of it!**

**This would take place after 'Sin City'. Enjoy!**

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><p>Sam lay down on his bed after getting out of his suit. He made a mental note to tell Dean about the house and almost laughed as he remembered his feeble attempt at getting Joseph Stonewell to keep out of it. <em>I'll have to arrest you<em>. Joseph was a man who obviously cared about his daughter a great deal, but if he wasn't careful, he could get hurt. It was a demon they were dealing with after all.

Apart from that, his visit to the Stonewell home had been pretty pointless, but he knew from years of experience it was always important to check. His father's voice echoed through his mind: _better safe than sorry, Sammy._

Sam smiled sadly as he thought about his dad. John Winchester hadn't been easy on him, but it had still hurt when he had died. He died saving Dean, and now Dean was going to die saving Sam. _Will the chain ever stop?_ He though hopelessly. He had seen how crushed Dean had been when he found out what their dad had done for him. Tears came to Sam's eyes as he thought about it. _How guilty would I feel? How would I survive without Dean?_

Dean, the one who had a sarcastic comment for everything. The one who had beaten up those bullies for terrorizing Sam at school. The older hunter who Sam had faced every nightmare imaginable with. His big brother, who Sam had the occasional fight with, but still loved fiercely.

_No, _Sam thought. _He's not going to die. Not for me, not for anyone. _He decided there and then, in a crappy motel in a virtually unknown town, that he would fight for his brother's soul, no matter what.

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><p>Sunlight filtered through the dirty window, filling the small room with bright light. Sam rolled over onto his side, his eyes still closed. <em>Just a few more minutes!<em> He had fallen asleep after desperately researching crossroad demons for an hour, and had then woken up at midnight, hunched over the small table he was sitting at with a neck-cramp. He had barely made it to his bed before he collapsed, a sudden wave of tiredness taking over his body.

But sleep hadn't come easily. His mind had been plagued by a horrible nightmare for most of the night, and he had lost a lot of sleep thinking about it.

Becca (who hadn't moved much; Sam reckoned this was because he had only seen pictures of her) was screaming while being attacked with a knife by something dark. Sam struggled to help her, but he couldn't move. His body wouldn't respond to his brain, as if something was holding him still. Becca's bloodcurdling cries suddenly stopped, her lifeless body motionless against the wet concrete. The grasp on Sam was released, and he ran towards her attacker. Its black smoky arms kept on stabbing Becca over and over again even though she was dead. Sam reached out to stop it, punching it so that it fell onto the ground face first. But it pushed itself to its feet calmly and when it turned, Sam found himself looking into a pair of black eyes and a face with an evil smirk…Dean's face…

Bu that had been hours ago. Now, in the blinding light, Sam managed to drift into a slumber once more. The dream still bothered him, but he did his best to forget about it .With his feet hanging over the edge of the bed and his long bangs hiding his face, Sam lay still as the clock beside his bed flashed eight-thirty.

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><p><em>Drip, drip, drip<em>. A slow but steady flow of water echoed throughout the large room. There was a stale, musty smell in the air, like something had died in it long ago and had never been removed. The morning light was shining through several windows, each as broken and dirty as the last. There weren't too many things in the room: a couch that had lost its color long ago and a table that had been attacked by woodlice. There was also a chair that wasn't very stable, and sitting in that chair was an unconscious Dean Winchester.

A trail of dried blood ran down the side of his head, and a deep purple bruise was starting to form on his right eye. His hands were tied tightly behind the chair with a rather thin rope that was cutting into his wrists.

After several hours of sitting like this, Dean woke up. His head ached and his wrists were throbbing. He looked around, and suddenly took a second glance at a shadow in the corner he was sure hadn't been there a second before.

"Good to see you're awake, Dean. I was worrying that I had hit you a little _too_ hard." A clear laugh followed, and the speaker stepped forward so that she could be seen more clearly.

She couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen. She was wearing a black knee-length dress, and she had long loose black hair to match it. Her skin was slightly tanned, and she was shoeless. But the thing that disturbed Dean the most were the empty black eyes that could only mean one thing. "What, you don't recognize me?" she asked.

Dean struggled against his constraints. "Sorry, I've not talked swapped sob-stories with many demons before."

"I know your type, believe me." the demon walked up to Dean. "You shoot first and ask questions later with my kind. But, _come on_, think! You know me, I know you. You've shot me first and asked questions later. I'm just lucky to have gotten out when you performed that little stunt with the Gate."

Dean racked his brains, but only one demon came to mind. "Meg?"


	8. Chapter 7

**I hope you've forgiven me! If not, hopefully these next few chapters will help you...**

**Eric Kripke owns everything. This would take place after 'Sin City'. Enjoy! :D**

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><p>Sam re-awoke at ten. He opened his eyes to see that the blinding sunlight was gone, and in its place was a heavy rainfall. A tree branch thrashed against the motel's window and thunder grumbled loudly. He was surprised at this sudden change in weather; that is until he realized something else was wrong.<p>

"Dean?" he called out, hoping that his brother was just in the bathroom or kitchen. "Come on, you've gotta be back by now." Dean never usually stayed at a girl's house past nine: he didn't like to 'encourage' them because he and Sam moved around so much.

Sam got up and looked around the motel room. But there was no one else in it. He looked outside to check if he could have gone out, but the Impala was still sitting where he had parked it last night. He began to get worried, so hechecked his phone. There were no new messages, and he hadn't missed any calls. _Crap! _He tried calling Dean a couple of times, but he only got through to his voicemail.

After ten minutes of desperate thinking, he picked up his phone once more.

"Sam? What's up?" Bobby's gruff voice was a comfort to Sam.

He relaxed a little. "Dean went out last night with a girl, and he's not back."

"And? He goes out drinking all the time."

"Oh, Bobby, you know he never stays out past ten at the latest."

Bobby's voice began to show some signs of concern. "Well, have you tried calling him?"

"Only a billion or so times. I'm getting worried."

"Where are you?"

Sam was slightly puzzled. "Mazomanie, Wisconsin."

"That's about an hour from where I am. I'll be there as soon as I can." Sam heard the roar of an engine on the other line as Bobby got into his car. "What're you guys doin' there anyway?"

Sam quickly explained about Becca's disappearance, and the murders that had happened. "I went to talk to her father last night, but he didn't seem to know much more than…" Sam trailed off.

"Than who, Sam?" Bobby didn't like to bring it up now, but he hated when the boy did that.

"What if Becca's got Dean? What if…I don't know, she's holding him somewhere? Joseph said something about this old house that she might be hiding at. I'm gonna go check there-"

"Hold on a minute, you idjit. Just slow down and watch your back. I don't want to be saving you as well. Where's the house?"

Sam told him how to get there. "See ya Bobby. And thanks for coming out." Sam flipped his phone shut and went out into the pounding rain, and got completely drenched by the time he had closed the driver's door. He shook his bangs out of his eyes and put the keys into the ignition. Time to save Dean's butt…once again.

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><p>"So, why are you terrorizing a tiny town in the middle of nowhere? Surely it's not really your style?" Dean asked, trying to keep the demon's attention. He was attempting to untie the rope that bound his hands.<p>

Meg was at a window looking at the rain, but walked back over to Dean when he spoke. "What, you wanna swap stories now that you're the one tied to a chair? I didn't get the pleasure when you were torturing me."

Dean gave her a charming, sarcastic smile. "Sorry 'bout that."

"You're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood," she said, playing with his short hair. "I was kinda bored when I chose this place. I figured the closer the community was, the more terror a couple of murders would create."

Dean felt slightly sick. For one thing, only a demon would come up with an idea like that, and the other was the sweet way Meg was smiling at him now.

"And since young Meg Masters had a nice body, I figured that something younger would be even nicer. I have to say, Dean, the look on your face last night when you figured out who was jumping you: priceless."

"I missed a date with a _really_ hot chick thanks to you." Dean gave her an annoyed look.

"Oh, boo-who. I've never even been on a date."

Dean so shocked he even stopped trying to escape for a moment. "Really? Well, I would feel sorry for you, but I'm a little tied up right now."

The demon raised her arm and slapped him so hard the chair supporting Dean almost collapsed.

"Wow, touchy." Dean spat blood out of his mouth.

"I hear you'll be joining us down-under soon Dean. It's not a very nice place. I'm allowed to be 'touchy'."

"Well, seeing as you are a demon, you had to have done something to deserve being sent to hell." He expected another slap for that one, but was surprised when she moved closer to him, her face nearly touching his.

"I'd forgotten how handsome you were, Dean. I've never been kissed before either." She leaned in closer until her lips were touching his.

Dean rolled his eyes in disgust, when suddenly his hands were free from the rope. He held onto it, knowing that the demon would realize he was free if he let it fall to the floor. But luckily the demon was too busy making out with him.

"Your lips are so soft." Meg said a few minutes later.

Dean gave her a sarcastic smile. "Yeah, it's my best feature."

She stood back, wiping Dean's blood from her mouth. "Oh, I doubt that."

She stretched out her hand, and Dean felt himself being lifted off the ground and slammed against a wall. "Were you gonna tell me that you'd gotten free? I guess I'll have to kill you now. And we were having so much fun…It's a real pity…"

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><p><strong>Yeah, I don't know why I put in the time at the start. (Actually, it was when the story was going in another direction!) Please review and tell me what you think. Are we pro-Meg or anti-Meg fans? <strong>

**And does everyone know the charming smile I'm talking about? Jensen Ackle's is so good at it...**


	9. Chapter 8

**I wonder what'll happen now...Sam had better turn up soon or Dean's in deep do-do...**

**All things Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke...he's such a genious, giving us a horror story and eye-candy every week. **

**This would take place after 'Sin City'.**

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><p>Dean struggled to breathe and as Meg closed her hand more: she was telekinetically strangling him. "Why'd you even keep me alive for this long?" he choked.<p>

"I'd really wanted to take a few more hits at you, but you're bait, Dean. I know you boys well enough to know that when one goes missing, the other won't be too far behind. But I guess little Sammy will have to rescue your body." She pushed him against the wall harder.

Dean struggled, trying to escape, but her she had a steel-like hold on him. _I have to warn Sam somehow. I gotta keep him away from here._ _Why would she even want Sam? I'm the one that shot her old man._ He shut his eyes, expecting his life to end any minute. _At least Sam will be safe…_

Meg rolled her eyes, slightly bored by this Winchester. "Come on! I was expecting more of a performance! At least a scream or two would be nice." But only silence filled the room until: _click_. The demon felt something being pushed against her host head.

"Put him down now."

Meg turned to find herself looking at Sam, who was holding a loaded gun that she hated and feared, the one that had killed Azazel: the infamous Colt.

She turned around, still pinning Dean against the wall. "I didn't hear you come in, Sammy." She greeted. The youngest Winchester had a look of fury on his face. "But now that you're here, how about we get the party started." She flicked her hand and Dean flew across the room, his head banging hard against the wall.

He was out cold, and Sam looked shocked and even slightly scared. The demon laughed as he began to slowly walk backwards towards the next room. Her feet padded softly against the floor, so silently she could have been floating. She looked Sam in the eyes, black meeting brown. "Are you gonna shot me, Sammy? Are you gonna kill me?"

"It's Sam." he said, suddenly stopping and glancing up. The look of surprise and fear had vanished and in its place was a look of triumph.

The demon followed his gaze and a look of rage came over her face as she saw a Devil's Trap that had been painted onto the ceiling.

"I never thought it'd be _that _simple. How'd you fall for it?"He asked, the scared look vanishing. "It's the oldest trick in the book."

"Guess I'm a little slow today," she shot back, trying to find a way out of the circle. Sam brought a chair over and put it behind her.

"Sit." he ordered, forcing her onto it. Sam produced two cable ties from his pocket and attached her thin arms to the chair. He stood back and looked at the sight before him. The demon had made a mess out of it's victim.

Compared to the pictures that Sam had seen of her, Becca looked tired and slightly thinner. Her hair was messy, as though it hadn't been brushed since she had gotten possessed. She was wearing a surprisingly modest dress, but no jacket. The happy teen from the picture was gone, and in its place was a exhausted, demon-ridden girl. She was wearing a twisted smile that didn't suit her face.

The demon narrowed its eyes as it guessed what Sam was thinking about. "Do you like what I've done with her? I chose to let her go shoeless just to add that little extra bit of…torture." Sure enough, when Sam looked at her feet, they were cut all over. Bloody footprints covered the floor, showing a path of where she had walked.

Sam tried to ignore it as he talked to her. "Once I talked to Becca's father last night, I figured I should check out the place. It's…nice." he commented, looking around the room.

The demon looked at him."I'm guessing you came last night while I was getting your big brother. Someone's obviously not afraid of the dark."

Sam shrugged. "No, guess I'm not." He was rather abrupt with his response, but he wanted to see if he could get any information out of the demon before he exorcised it. "I reckoned that I should be prepared in case I ran into you later on. And what a lucky thought that was."

The demon watched him as he paced around her. "I wanted you to come here. You're not the smart one this time."

Sam's face looked startled for a second, but he covered it up quickly. "Is that why you took Dean? To get me to come here?"

'Becca' smirked at him, and decided that she wanted to play with him. "Maybe. Mind you, if I had a choice, Dean would have done me just fine. But no, my boss wanted little Sammy."

"Your boss? I thought it was one for all with demons."

"It is sometimes, but she was offering something that was worth breaking our 'code of conduct' for." The demon could tell she was getting on Sam's nerves as his body tensed. But finally, he let his annoyance out.

"Who are you working for? What is she offering?" Sam demanded, pointing the gun in her face.

"Revenge." The demon laughed.

"_Who_ _is it_?" Sam asked a little more persistently, putting the gun against her forehead.

"I'm not gonna tell you. You're just gonna shoot or exorcise me anyway. But I'll tell you one thing-she's killing to meet you." The demon settled down onto its chair, a satisfied look on its face.

Sam shook with anger. He hated demons. He took in a deep breath and began the exorcism ritual, when he was interrupted.

"Dean's worried about you, you know."

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><p><strong>And now you have read most of the original stuff with a little Meg mixed in. I'll let you guess who the demon is that she's worrking for...it's kind of obvious and if you've seen the third season you'll know. But for those who're a little confused, I'll explain in the next chapter. ;0)<strong>


	10. Chapter 9

**This takes place after 'Sin City', season 3. Eric Kripke owns everything. Hope y'all enjoy it!**

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><p>"What?" he said, stopping half way through a word. He tried to remind himself that she was just trying to screw with his head, but he had to hear this.<p>

The demons black eyes shined in the candle light. "Worried that you're losing your...humanity." She spoke slowly, drawing out each word. She looked over at the unconscious Dean, and noticed Sam had done the same thing. "I can tell. I've been watching you two for days, and the way he looks at you...well, you can see the pain in his eyes."

"You're wrong!" Sam interjected, aiming the Colt at the demon's head.

The demon raised its eyebrows, eyeing up the gun. "Am I really?" she asked.

"You're just a demon," he replied, getting a clear shot.

"Just a demon?" The demon threw back its head and laughed madly. "Just remember that your precious little Becca's in here too." She tilted her head and looked at him through her black eyes. "I'm slightly offended you haven't recognized me yet."

Sam was about to respond when he heard his brother moan softly. He checked the Devil's trap was still intact, and left the room to kneel beside Dean. "Dean," Sam said, softly shaking him awake, "Dean, you ok?"

Dean sat up and put a hand to his head. "I'll live." He climbed shakily to his feet. "Have you gotten rid of her yet?"

Sam shook his head. "She's through there," he said, gesturing towards a dark doorway Dean hadn't noticed before.

"Wait a minute, Sam," Dean said, pulling back his brother, "it's Meg.

"What? Are you sure?"

Dean sighed and nodded. "She must have escaped when we opened the Gate. Be careful…she knows how to wind us up."

"Good to have you back with us, Dean!" Meg called as they entered the room. "Me and Sammy here were just having a nice little conversation. Just like you and I were having before I knocked you out. Sorry about that, but I had to. You were getting on my nerves."

Sam looked down at Dean, slightly confused by what she was talking about and also very relieved that his big brother was here to help him out. But Dean's battered face sent him a clear message: _She whacked the crap out of me._

"What do you want, Meg?" Sam asked. "Why are you here?"

"I knew you'd figure out who I was sooner than your brother."

"What?"

"Who I really am. Do you like what I'm wearing?" She sighed as the brothers just stood there in silence. "Oh, come on, guys! I know I'm a bit of a jerk-"

"Oh, I can come up with a hundred more colorful words to describe you." Dean interrupted.

"Ooh, nasty. I'm hurt. But I'll get back to you later." She blew him a kiss and looked up at Sam. "After all, it is Sammy we're here to talk about."

"It's Sam." The two hunters shot back at the same time.

"Whatever." Meg sighed. "How about I shed some light on the situation here? Let's see what's happened so far…My father brings all the special little brats together, then Sammy goes and gets himself killed. Then Dean sells his soul to get him back, and then he kills my father and opens the gate. Now he," she said, looking at Dean, "regret bringing Sam back cause he's not 100 percent…Sammy. And my boss wants him and I want Dean."

"Why?" Dean asked, leaning on Sam for some support. He felt a dizzy and figured he might have concussion.

"Because we both wanna rip you apart...for personal reasons, of course. _Anyway_," She took a breath and rounded up her summary, "it looks as though Sammy's gonna shoot me just like he did with that waitress and priest he murdered a few weeks back. He's going to murder someone else in cold blood."

"You deserve to die."

"But does Becca deserve to?" Meg smiled triumphantly as Sam's anger made his whole body shake. "Tell us, Dean, how do you feel? Angry? Sad? Scared?"

Silence followed. The Winchesters were thinking about what they had just heard and were thinking the same thing._ Who the heck is she working for?_

The demon decided to continue with her taunting, wanting to push Sam to the limits. As much as she wanted to torture each of them slowly and painfully, she knew it would be much more delicious to see them get mad first. "Dean's already heard this, but I chose Becca especially." Meg's black eyes disappeared, and Becca's blue ones returned. "I watched her before possessing her. So young, so strong. She has a whole life ahead of her. She has so many opportunities. She's top of all her classes, she's got friends, well, not including the ones she killed."

Dean looked at his little brother. "Sam!" he warned as Sam slowly pulled back the trigger. He pulled him aside. "What're you doing? You know she wants you to shoot her."

Sam fiddled with the Colt, and took a long, deep breath. Meg was right. How many demons had he killed without thinking about the innocent people they were possessing? "I can't seem to fight it." Tears welled up in Sam's eyes, and he looked away from the Colt and up at his big brother. "What's wrong with me, Dean? I've murdered three people since I…well…died."

Dean looked his younger brother in the eyes. _What if yellow-eyes and Meg are right? _he thought desperately. _What if what I brought back isn't 100% Sam?_ He shook his head, pushing away those thoughts. This person in front him was Sammy, his baby brother. They had been through thick and thin together, and Dean wasn't going to give up on him now.

"Sammy, you had to kill those people. You saved a lot more lives by letting one person die. But Becca-" Dean pointed at the possessed girl, "she does _not_ have to die. You can save her. Just say the exorcism. Meg goes back to where she belongs, and Becca goes home to her family." He clapped his brother's shoulder and pretended not to notice that Sam was sniffing back tears. "I'll be right here to help you, OK?"

Sam nodded and took in a few shaky breaths, going through the familiar words in his head.

"Hmm…maybe he isn't that different," Meg commented. "He seems to still cry like a little girl."

"Shut up!" Dean shouted at her. He had had enough of this demon. "I'm the only one who gets to make fun of him!"

"_You_'_re_ the touchy one today, hot stuff." Meg winked at him.

Sam tried to block out their arguing. _You've done this a million times. You can do it._ He stepped and began to chant in Latin once again.

Meg's breathing began to become labored and Becca's face screwed up in pain. "You don't know what I've done to her!" she said, referring to her host. "I could've made her walk off a cliff! She'll die just like the little blonde did!"

Sam ignored her, and sped up the exorcism as much as he could. He tried not to trip over or miss any words, knowing that if he did, he'd have to start all over again.

"I'll say hi to daddy Winchester for you boys." Meg began to scream. It was the same bloodcurdling one Sam had heard in his nightmare, and Becca's head was thrown back as black smoke escaped through her mouth.

Sam finished the chant just as the last of the smoke went through the floor.

Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and pulled his shaking brother into a hug. "I'm proud of you, Sammy."

He turned back towards the trap and looked at the limp figure sitting tied to a chair in it and quickly moved towards it. Becca barely had a pulse, and now that the Meg, her true injuries showed. Bruises had shown up and there were lots of cuts all over her body.

"Crap," Dean said, trying to free her from the seat, "this cannot be happening all over again."

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><p><strong>If you haven't guessed, the demon Meg's working for is Lilith, and Lilith offered her revenge on Dean cause he killed Azazel. I couldn't mention Lilith cause our boys don't hear about her until later on in the season.<strong>

**Leave me a comment to tell me what you think so far! I might do one or two more chapters...depends on how much you guys are liking this! ;)**


	11. Chapter 10

**Just the usual...Eric Kripke owns all etc., etc. I think y'all know the drill by know.**

**So we continue...**

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><p>Sam rushed over to help Dean. He realized Meg must have taken Dean's knife because he was only using his hand to try and untie the poor girl. Sam got out his own and in quickly cut her hands free. He caught Becca as she became loose from the chair and lifted her up. He was surprised at how unnaturally light she was, and he lay her carefully down on the ground. He put a hand to her neck to check her pulse. He could barely feel it.<p>

Dean pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "We need an ambulance…"

Sam took off his jacket and carefully folded it under her head. When he had finished his call, Dean copied him, but lay it on top of Becca. "What now?" Sam asked the older hunter. Dean had more experience with these situations than him.

"Go to the trunk. Get some extra blankets and a first-aid kit." he ordered. Sam stood and hurried to the door. "Oh, and get some water as well." Dean added. He looked down at the broken figure in front of him. Her dry lips were cut, and it looked as though she had been beaten up. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her right arm stuck out at an awkward angle. _Broken_, Dean thought, having experienced it himself a few times. He began to wonder what was taking Sam so long when Becca's eyes fluttered open.

"Becca?" he asked. "Look at me. Please."

Becca's eyes followed the voice and she found herself looking up at the man she had attacked moments before. Only, instead of anger in his eyes, there was concern.

"Good," he said, adjusting the coat that was lying on top of her. "You need to stay awake, ok? Just till the ambulance gets here."

She made a slight movement with her head that Dean took for a nod. Becca made a strange gagging movement and he quickly tilted her head to the side. She threw up, and the vomit was a horrible red color, like blood.

Dean picked her up gently and moved her a few meters away from it. A gasp of pain escaped her lips as she tried to lift her broken arm to wipe her mouth.

"Easy, I'll get it." Dean cleaned her mouth, trying not to touch the bruises around it too much.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. It took Dean by surprise that she could even talk. "I'm sorry for everything." She began to cry, the tears escaping silently.

"Shh, it's ok." Dean comforted, worrying now about Sam. It shouldn't have taken him five minutes to get the stuff he'd asked for. "I'll be back in a minute. Just stay awake." He pulled out his gun and creeped out of the room. Sam suddenly came barging through the front door, followed by Bobby, who had a nasty cut on his head.

"Idjit." Bobby greeted, slapping the back of Dean's head.

"Ow, what was that for?" Dean asked, rubbing the spot that had just been hit.

Bobby ignored him. "Where's the girl?" Dean nodded towards the room, and Bobby walked into it. He was the best 'doctor' they had at the moment.

"What took you so long?" Dean asked.

"Well, I thought I heard something, so I got my gun, and before I realized it was Bobby, I…whacked him…round the head." He looked down, slightly ashamed.

Dean stared in disbelief at his brother. "How can you be such an idiot?"

Sam looked at him uncomfortably for a moment then hastily changed the subject. "How's Becca doing?"

"She's bad. Like, real bad. She's broken her arm, and we might have upset it a bit when we moved her. I don't think she's eaten much since she was possessed." He leaned against the doorframe and watched Bobby tend to Becca. He was glad Meghad only starved her and not thrown her off a cliff like she had threatened.

Dean glanced outside a few minutes later when he heard the sound of sirens not too far away, amazed at how fast the ambulance had gotten here. He went over to Becca and was glad to see that she was still breathing. "The ambulance is here. You're gonna be ok."

Sam had never seen his brother so concerned about someone he had just met. And Dean hadn't even really met Becca: he had been beaten up by her. He went outside to greet the paramedics who were getting a stretcher out from the back of the ambulance. "She's inside," he said, pointing towards the front door. "First room on the left."

They quickly went up the house's old steps and left Sam outside alone. The ground still was wet from the rain, but the sky was now clear. It was a vibrant blue, and a cool breeze was making the spindly trees in the wood knock together. Sam took in a deep breath. _What a morning!_ But he was glad that his brother was safe. He thought back to about two years ago, a few weeks after he had left Stanford with Dean. The older hunter had just shown him their dad's journal, and told him what their purpose was: _Saving people, hunting things. _Sam felt as though they had accomplished both today. _Well, maybe both…_

A procession suddenly came out of the house: the paramedics pushing a once again unconscious Becca on a stretcher, Dean carrying one of their bags, and Bobby limping behind at the back with the gear from Dean's trunk. Becca was loaded into the back of the ambulance and they left, sirens blazing.

"She'll be OK." Dean said when they had reached Sam.

"That's good." Sam said, giving a sigh of relief. "But aren't we leaving tonight? I mean, the case is closed, so we skip town, right?"

Dean opened up the back of the Impala and took his stuff from Bobby. "I figured we could hang around a little."

Sam accepted this, knowing Dean must have his reasons. "What did you tell them?"

"What, about how it happened?"

Sam nodded.

"Pretty much exactly what happened. She was jumped and taken to this old place, then the FBI sent us to investigate, and we showed up to find her in her current state. But of course," he said, slamming the trunk shut, "her kidnappers had mysteriously disappeared." He gave Sam a questioning look, wondering how convincing the story actually sounded.

"So, pretty much the truth, apart from most of it." Sam received a hearty slap on the shoulder for his answer.

"You're catching on, little brother." He went over to Bobby, who'd gotten into his car. "Thanks for coming down, even though you didn't really do much."

Bobby shook Dean's hand. "If it means the slightest possibility of keeping you two out of trouble, call me any time. I gotta go back and finish my job. Some ghost is_ really_ annoyed with his ex." And with that, he started the car and drove away.

Dean watched him go, then walked back to the Impala, and got into the driver's seat. Sam was already in the car, talking to someone on the phone. "Who was that?" he asked him when he hung up.

"Becca's dad. I told him I'd call when we found her. He sounded a little worried, but relieved, and he's gonna call us when he knows how she is." He put his mobile back into his pocket and settled back. "So, what now?"

"We go back to the hotel, and get us some pizza and beer!" Dean declared joyfully.

Sam smiled at him and nodded his agreement. "You sure you wanna drive, Dean? I mean those bruises looks pretty bad, especially seeing as it came from a girl."

Dean sarcastically smiled at him and turned on the radio, full volume. "Nah, it wasn't that bad. It was just like getting a couple punches thrown by you."

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><p><strong>Yeah, happy ending! Maybe...I've not explained why Dean wanted to go do the case so bad...all shall be revealed in the final chapter...<strong>

**I like you guys for reading this...Oo, and reviews!**


	12. Chapter 11

**I am sorry for not updating for two weeks. I'm currently overseas and I've been really busy. So sorry. I now promise you at least one more chapter after this one, cause this one's short. **

**I don't own the Winchesters (doesn't mean I wouldn't like to!)**

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><p>Sam woke up late the next day. He had a major headache from the beer the brothers had celebrated with last night. He sat up, but regretted it immediately as a wave of nausea come over him. He rushed to the bathroom and spent the next ten minutes with his head in the toilet bowl.<p>

He rinsed his mouth and then went to the kitchen to make some coffee. He was about to ask Dean if he wanted any when he realized his brother's bed was empty. "Dean?" he called. _Not again. No, calm down, Sam. Dean's a big boy. The Impala's gone, so he probably went to get some breakfast._ Although he wasn't completely convinced, Sam tried to relax a little and enjoy his drink.

He savored each sip of it until he reached the bottom of the mug. He thought it was strange that Dean hadn't waited for him to get breakfast. He found it even stranger that the older hunter had woken up earlier than he had.

Sam tried to shake the feeling and went to refill his drink. _What is something's got him? Like another demon wanting revenge? _He managed to ignore it for about half an hour, but his fears eventually got the best of him. He called his brother's mobile.

It took a few tries, but eventually his brother picked up his phone. "Wait a minute, baby. I've gotta take this. Hello?" Dean sounded happy. A bit _too_ happy for Sam's liking, but he tried to ignore it.

"Um, where are you? I've been worried sick." He could hear some faint giggling coming from wherever Dean was.

"Chill, dude. I'm at the beach."

Sam looked out the window at the grey sky. "At ten in the morning? In the middle of October? Since when do you like the beach anyway?"

But suddenly everything made sense to Sam. The reason why Dean was nervous (or maybe he was excited) when Mazomanie had been mentioned. The reason why he was so eager to take the case. The reason he had wanted to hang around after the case was finished. He knew that at that moment, Dean was fulfilling a life-long dream. "You're not…are you?"

"If you are thinking that I'm at the only legal nude beach in Wisconsin, then you are spot on."

Sam let out a groan. "That is sick. I mean like _really_ sick. Just come back soon, OK?"

"What's that? Oh, I gotta go. Drizelle wants to go for a swim."

Sam tried to shake a sick mental image as the line disconnected. He would _never_ understand his brother and his sick habits…

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><p>Sam decided that while he waited for his Dean's return, he would go and get some breakfast. He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the motel when he remembered that Dean had the car. But Sam didn't let this stop him. He thought the fresh air would help him clear his mind.<p>

Since Sam had absolutely no idea where anything was, he figured he'd wander around a little. It wasn't long before he had reached a small, slightly shabby diner. A bell dinged as he opened the door and went inside.

The already freezing temperature seemed to drop by two degrees as he was greeted by a teenaged, sour-faced waitress wearing headphones. "What do you want?" she asked him just as he closed the door.

"Um…I just walked in-" Sam began.

"Coffee? Tea? Orange juice?"

"Coffee please, but can I just sit-"

"Pancakes? Eggs? Waffles?" she asked, ignoring his question. "I'll get you pancakes." She walked round the back if the counter and shouted into the kitchen. "Hey, Tom! Three stack of pancakes!"

"We don't serve potatoes!"

Sam laughed as a rather old man stuck his head out the kitchen door with a confused expression on his face.

"I said pancakes, you idiot! Pan-cakes!" she said, emphasizing the words clearly. "Is your stupid hearing aid off again…"

Sam decided to stop eavesdropping on their conversation and sat down in a booth next to the window. The place was completely empty apart from him, and he was glad that it was silent…that is, except for the argument going on kitchen.

He thought about what had happened the previous afternoon, feeling slightly sick when he thought about how close he had come to shooting Becca. _What's wrong with me?_ He though desperately. _I never used to be like this_.

Suddenly Dean's voice entered Sam's mind, his tone gruff yet loving. _'Dammit, Sammy, there is nothing wrong with you. You are exactly the same as you've always been: a delicate, caring little flower. Not a killer. *sigh*…I'm sorry. You're a delicate, caring, abnormally humongous flower. And as long as I'm around, you're gonna stay that way.'_

Sam decided that if his brother did actually ever call him a flower, he'd take a swing or two. _Dean seems to be the only constant thing in my life and I'm gonna lose him. _Sam felt tears come to his eyes, and when he heard something, he looked up.

It was the waitress. She was holding his pancakes and coffee with an uncomfortable look on her face. "Um…enjoy your breakfast." She said, putting down his food so quickly that half of the coffee slopped out of the mug. She then hurried back to the kitchen, wondering why they didn't tell you how to deal with crying customers in training.

Sam mopped up his spilled drink with a few napkins and looked at the meal in front of him. The pancakes looked barely cooked and were smothered in so much maple syrup that they had the texture of wet paper. He went for his drink and if he didn't know what he had ordered, he would have said it was just hot water. He slid the meal away when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

"Hello?" he answered, hoping that it was someone with good news. He had had a crappy morning.

"Where are you?" Dean's voice asked. It was filled with anger and frustration.

"I'm having some breakfast. Did Drizelle ditch you?" Sam snickered.

"Maybe…it turns out that the beach is for nudists only. Anyway, I'll come join you."

"There's no point. The food's absolute crap." The waitress overheard and threw him a dirty look. Sam shrugged apologetically at her and continued talking to his brother. "I'll meet you back at the motel in ten minutes."

"OK, I'll be here."

The waitress marched over to Sam and slapped down a piece of paper. "I assume you want your bill now?"

"Yeah, thanks." Sam pulled out his wallet and handed over some money.

"I only get minimum wage," the waitress hinted, holding out her hand for a tip.

Sam gave her a few coins and exited the café before she could demand anything else.

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><p><strong>I'm not too sure where the cranky waitress came from. I figured I'd add a little humour...Oh, and I had NO idea about that beach when I chose the location. I Googled small towns and Mazomanie just happened to have something that would encourage Dean to go to it ;)<strong>


	13. Chapter 12

**Well, here it is: the final chapter! Sorry it took so long - but with exams coming up and life in general, it's been kinda hectic! But please enjoy!**

**Eric Kripke owns all!**

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><p>When Sam walked up the motel's driveway, he saw the Impala sitting in the car park. In it was an impatient looking Dean, who was madly taping away on the steering wheel. <em>Must be ACDC<em>, Sam decided as his brother began to sing along.

The engine roared to life as soon as Sam walked over to the car and climbed in the passenger's seat. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"We're leaving town. We've been here long enough." Dean had hastily changed from his trunks into a jeans and a t-shirt, but there was still sand in his hair.

"The beach was that bad, huh?" Sam smirked.

Dean only nodded his head sadly. "I've booked us out and our bags are in the trunk." He drove the car a couple of meters then looked over at Sam. "Wait a minute…has Becca's dad called yet?"

"Um, yeah, he left a message last night. Said we could drop by if we wanted to."

The Impala pulled out the motel's parking lot.

"You do know that to leave town, you have to go in the other direction, right?" Sam pointed out.

"We're gonna go pay Becca a visit. We are allowed to drop by, after all."

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><p>Dean had always hated hospitals. Ever since the previous year when his dad died in one, he avoided them as much as possible. But he wanted to talk to Becca. He felt like had to.<p>

"She's in room 304, agents," a rather attractive nurse said, pointing them in the right direction.

Sam was amazed to see that the older Winchester wasn't hitting on her. In fact, Dean had barely glanced at her. Silence filled the elevator as they rode up to floor three, and it continued as they walked down a long hallway.

They finally reached a closed door with a number printed next to it in large black letters: 304.

"Come in," a voice beckoned a few moments after Dean knocked. The brothers walked in the tiny room to find Becca sitting up in a bed, wearing a hospital gown with her hair tied up. There were several machines beeping crazily around her, each measuring something.

They didn't notice the small man in the corner until he almost bowled them over. "Agent Graham." Joseph Stonewell greeted, rushing up to the supposed agent to shake his hand. "Thank you! I knew you could save my Becca!"

Sam blushed slightly. Joseph was shaking his hand so hard he felt like his whole arm would fall off. "Really, it was no problem." He tried to say over the continuous thanks.

When Joseph felt like he had gotten out how truly grateful he was, he looked at the other man. "You must be agent Graham's partner-"

"Diamond, Steven Diamond." Dean said, clasping his hands behind his back. He didn't want any more damage to be caused to his already aching arms.

Luckily, Joseph could take a hint. "Thank you as well. My Becca's safe thanks to you two." He looked lovingly over at his daughter, who had been watching all of this with a look of amusement on her face. "Thanks for coming to check up on her as well," He continued, "Do you two want a coffee?"

Dean looked at Sam, trying to silently ask him: _was he this hyperactive last time you met? _"Uh, sure, I'll have one…Graham?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks." Sam smiled at the small man as he practically ran out the door. "Well, he sure is happy to see that you're OK." He said turning around to face Becca.

"And that's thanks to you two." She said, nodding to each of them.

"Please, I think I've heard 'thank-you' enough to last a life-time." Dean said pulling up a chair. "Look we need to talk about the past few weeks. But how are you?"

"I'm fine. The doctors said that I've got no serious injuries, just a broken arm and a few cuts and bruises." A quizzical look came over her face, like she was mulling something over in her mind. "Can I ask you two something?"

Sam he took the other seat. "Sure, I guess. Ask away." He prompted.

"You're not actually from the FBI, are you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dean shook his head rather guiltily, and decided to tell the truth. "No, we're not. I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother, Sam."

"Well, nice to meet you guys properly." Becca looked at both the brothers. They looked similar, but not dramatically. Sam was the taller of the two, but he looked younger as well. Dean looked like he would usually be a laid-back womanizer sorta guy that Becca usually hated.

"So, uh…" Sam began awkwardly. He didn't get a chance to have this conversation with many people because they usually died after being possessed. "What do you remember?"

Becca looked down and said in a small, scared voice, "Everything."

Dean almost winced when he heard this. _Everything?_ "So…everything is-"

"Everything!" Becca said, looking up. She sounded slightly agitated. "From that thing jumping me in the alley to me jumping _you_ in the alley, to me killing my-" she felt her eyes burn hot and she looked away from the two men, "killing my two best friends. I'm a murderer." She finished softly.

Dean shuffled to the edge of his eat to get closer to her and took her hand. "No, you are not." He said. He put his hand under her chin and lifted her head so she was looking him in the eyes. It was reassuring to see that they were blue. "The police think that your kidnappers made you do it, and seeing as Meg was kind of your kidnapper, the story works. But _you_ didn't kill anyone. You're as innocent as they get."

Becca grimaced slightly as she tried to give him a smile, but tears still leaked out her eyes. "Thanks, Dean."

But Dean didn't think that she believed him. "I'm serious, Becca."

She nodded and wiped her cheeks dry. "OK. I think I might give the counseling they offered me a shot."

Dean nodded, satisfied with the thought that the young woman was strong enough to get through this.

Becca took in a few deep breaths to try and get her emotions under control. "How do you guys know about this stuff? I mean, you knew how to trap me inside that circle thing, and how to get rid of Meg."

Sam wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't too sure how much he should actually reveal to a complete stranger, but luckily Dean took the lead.

"Our dad taught us. I know it sounds kind of twisted, but this is our job."

Becca's mouth formed a perfect 'o' as she digested this information. "You're…demon hunters?"

"Well, more anything-that's-supernatural hunters."

"So, vampires, ghosts, werewolves, witches-that kind of thing?"

Both brothers nodded. "Exactly that kind of thing…" Sam trailed off.

A loud buzzing made everyone in the room jump. "Jeez…what the heck is that?" Dean asked, looking over at Sam.

"That's…Bobby." He replied, checking the caller ID on his phone. "I've gotta take this outside, excuse me." Sam stood and walked out of the room, answering the mobile as he did so.

"Bobby?" Becca asked, feeling like she had heard the name before.

"He helped patch you up before the ambulance got to us yesterday." Dean explained. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Uh, sorry but we've gotta go. Bobby might have something for us to work on, and it's never too good for us to hang around one town for too long." He reached into his pocket and pulled out two things: a slip of paper and a small charm. "Here," he said, pressing them into Becca's uninjured hand.

"Uh, I think I'm a little young for you, Dean." Becca said after unfolding the paper and looking at the number that had been hastily scrawled across it.

"Just call me if anything else bothers you, or if you need to talk. And that-" he said, pointing to the metal trinket, "is an anti-possession charm. Just keep it on you and you should be safe from demons."

Becca looked at the silver charm and saw that it had what appeared to be a star surrounded by flames on it. "Thanks Dean. Sorry for beating you up. That bruise looks kinda nasty." She winced slightly as she looked at it.

Dean smiled. "It's OK. I'm used to it." He walked towards the door and opened it.

"And sorry for kissing you." The words rushed out of Becca's mouth and she blushed.

"That's OK," Dean said, turning to face her one last time, "I'm used that too."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for the support you've all given me! I've already started writing my next story, so that should be interesting. Please do me one last favour...REVIEW! :)<strong>

**P.S Sorry for those who have already read this but got an email about it being published. I noticed a mistake and it's been bugging me for ages. Thanks for reading!**


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